


What just happened?

by omgmybffmegatron



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Rating: NC17, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgmybffmegatron/pseuds/omgmybffmegatron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perceptor and Brainstorm's relationship compared to drugs or something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What just happened?

**Author's Note:**

> IDW-MTMTE  
> Perceptor/Brainstorm  
> NSFW, sticky, dom-Brainstorm?

Science was like a drug for them. Once they were immersed in a project, everything around them fell away. There was no reality, no superiors, no fighting; they were so high, so wrapped up in equations and measurements.

Rodimus? What’s a Rodimus?

And on that rare occasion when they actually agreed on something, it was damn near orgasmic. They were so different, yet so similar. How did I not realize it before? How did I miss it? They would ask themselves this, over and over as they tried to make sense of their discovery.

We are… compatible…

It would explain the obsession the jet had with Perceptor. All of those… microscopes of various sizes, all the same color—a particular red, a brilliant red for a brilliant mind. Primus, he could only imagine the information locked away within that processor.

Perceptor. 

Perceptor was his current project.

And like that drug, Brainstorm craved more.

The former Wrecker glanced up from his work, spotting Brainstorm at the other end, staring holes into his frame. Somehow, Perceptor knew his colleague was thinking the same thing he was; and like magnets, the two came together on the lab table. The much sleeker engineer was thrown onto the surface, pinned down by Perceptor’s bulk.

Brainstorm tried to curse him, but that silly, hateful façade dissolved the moment he felt a hand against his panel. He retracted his face mask, optics bright with excitement. He wanted to kiss him, and he whimpered as his wish was granted—and rather aggressively, at that.

There was no time for foreplay. None.

Brainstorm revealed his valve just as Perceptor unleashed his spike. The engineer stared, feeling his valve twitch at the sight. He could already imagine it…

“BAH! I can’t wait any longer!”

The jet pounced, knocking Perceptor to the floor. He clambered on top and straddled his hips, rocking back and forth against the hardening spike. He finally slipped his fingers around the shaft and pumped, taking great pleasure in watching Perceptor’s aloof demeanor melt away, revealing a side Brainstorm had only dreamed about.

And then he stopped.

Perceptor didn’t have time to retort as he felt his spike being slowly taken into the very warm, very wet and surprisingly tight valve. He brought his hands to Brainstorm’s hips and leaned his head back against the floor, doing his best to keep from thrusting up into that welcoming heat.

“Finally. I finally have control over you.” It wasn’t the type of control he was looking for, but…

Brainstorm flexed his valve around the spike, almost too full to do so, and began to move. Frag, Perceptor was big; he was hitting all the right spots.

The sniper gripped him tightly and bucked, eliciting a cry from the arrogant flier. Yes, you had so much control, Brainstorm. No. Perceptor kept thrusting hard, hitting the back of Brainstorm’s valve each time.

“B-Basta—UGH!” The engineer planted his hands on Perceptor’s chest and rode him faster, not caring if anyone heard his groans of ecstasy. “Cumming…” he gasped, “Perceptor! FUCK!” His valve clamped down around the spike almost painfully. He continued to roll his hips, prolonging his pleasure as Perceptor continued his upward thrusts.

Perceptor wasn’t so far behind, himself.

Overwhelmed with the sensations, the sniper grunted and held Brainstorm’s hips flush against his own, his spike flaring and pulsing as transfluid shot into the jet’s valve.

And that was that.

The two settled onto the floor, vents running hard to cool their frames. They would deal with the repercussions later. But for now, they just enjoyed their high.


End file.
